Walking down the narrow passage between buildings, I emerged onto the street. Turning left, a small provision store came into view.
As I approached, I noticed an old woman asleep inside on a narrow wooden bench—one I was certain was wildly uncomfortable. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, stepped out to attend to me.
"Good morning," I greeted.
She didn't respond immediately.
We both hesitated, each unsure how to address the other. I was fairly certain she was older than me, but I also knew that many girls around her age didn't particularly like being greeted traditionally if you were younger—even by a year.
On her end, she seemed just as unsure. I suspected—though I could be wrong—that she had a bit of a crush on me. Or at least some mild attraction, despite how few interactions we'd had.
Truth be told, I was attracted to her too.
She was pretty.
Unfortunately, I was terrible at non-platonic relationships.
I'd had girlfriends before, but things always ended the same way. I wouldn't call unless it felt necessary—at best, maybe once a month. According to them, the lack of attention was unbearable, and eventually, we'd break up.
At first, I didn't understand it. My male friends and I could go an entire month without talking, then meet up and act like nothing had changed. With girls, though, silence translated into attitude… then resentment.
Eventually, I understood enough for my friends to start calling me the fumbler, joking that my spirit animal was a cat.
As embarrassing as it was—and despite the fact that I'd always been able to get girls—I had never had sex.
I hadn't even kissed one.
Why?
I honestly didn't know.
After picking up the items I needed, I did the calculations and opened my banking app to make a transfer—only to realize I was ₦500 short.
I sighed and forced a smile.
"Sorry, I'm short ₦500 at the moment. Can I—"
"Don't worry about it."
She cut me off before I could finish, making me look up at her.
"I mean… you can pay it back later," she added quickly. "I know your siblings—you can't run."
She stuttered through the explanation, even though it didn't really need one.
I smiled back.
It felt good—knowing I still had at least one thing going for me.
FLASH!
BOOM!
My attention snapped toward the distance.
We both stepped out of the store and saw a plume of smoke rising into the sky.
I frowned. I was sure I'd seen a flash before the explosion.
"What the hell was that?" I muttered.
Turning to her, I joked, "Have Boko Haram finally reached us here in Delta State?"
She didn't find it funny.
"God forbid, Kamcy," she said sharply. "Stop making such comments. I don't want terrorists ending my life so soon, oo."
I raised my hands in mock surrender and shook my head. I wasn't interested in investigating further. I'd rather go home.
I knew how gossip traveled in this area—the story would reach me soon enough.
Besides, it was a small town.
Shrugging, I continued with my day. I had more pressing issues.
Later, walking out of the gas station office, I sighed. I'd just submitted an application letter along with my CV, hoping to get a job until school resumed.
Honestly, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go back to school.
The drive just wasn't there anymore.
Not feeling like heading home immediately, I decided to pass time at a familiar spot—a so-called business center near our house.
Calling it a stroll was generous. I simply couldn't afford transport.
When I arrived, a few boys were already loitering around. I didn't actually know what business the place conducted—I'd just mentally labeled it a business center.
Finding a small space, I sat down without greeting anyone. They already had their clique, and I wasn't in the mood to talk.
I took out my phone and turned on Wi-Fi.
Yes, the place had free Wi-Fi. For some reason, the owners hadn't bothered setting a password—and didn't seem to mind people using it.
I connected and opened my class group chat, scrolling silently as usual. I rarely spoke unless necessary. Mostly, I just watched to see if anything useful came up.
DING!
A smile crept onto my face.
It was my personal friend group chat.
Kevin: how's your holiday man
Mike: I have a feeling you're just stalking the class group chat
I typed back.
Kamcy: @mike please leave me be
Kamcy: @kevin the air is better here 😂
Kevin: you better bring yam tubers back from your village
Mike: I agree. bring food. I'm tired of junk this semester 😤
Kamcy: place your hope somewhere else or you'll starve
Kamcy: and it's a town, not a village 😒
Kevin: how are the village babes treating you
Mike: don't dodge the food matter. I'll become Hannibal
Kamcy: what village babes? it's a town
Kevin: by the way, what's the name of that place again? I heard terrorists attacked some village
Mike: yeah same
I frowned.
First—I'd ignored a possible terrorist attack and could've died.
Second—did these idiots think all villages were the same place?
Kamcy: not all villages are one location. and yeah, it actually happened here. I thought it was a gas explosion
Kamcy: damn, I actually need to check the news
Mike: no need. the "GREAT AMERICANS" are apparently helping now
Kamcy: good, but I'll still confirm from official sources
Mike: stay safe. you're our only hope for food 😁
After skimming the news, it seemed there was no immediate need to panic. The terrorists had retreated after the bombing. The military had responded. The situation was "under control."
As my friends said, the United States had offered assistance. The Nigerian government had accepted, and their aid was expected to arrive within the week.
And yet… something about the entire situation felt wrong.
Sighing, I stood up.
It was time to go home.
Between my health and the news, I didn't feel safe staying outside any longer.